


it’s our paradise (and it’s our war zone)

by aceofdiamonds



Series: is that such a stretch of the imagination? [9]
Category: Gossip Girl, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 05:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5855221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofdiamonds/pseuds/aceofdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>blair sees chuck for the first time in six years</p><p>“He’s a wanker,” Harry says, shaking out his hand again before he gingerly uncurls his knuckles, examining the damage. “What, Blair? Did you think I’d shake his hand and smile when I met him?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	it’s our paradise (and it’s our war zone)

**Author's Note:**

> i was going to apologise for how anti-chuck this is but no, actually, i won’t. title is from pillowtalk by zayn.

 

 

It’s the first time she’s seen Chuck in -- It takes her far too long to remember which tells her everything. Since before the divorce was finalised, so, six years at the very least. They had had one of their fights, had one of their long talks where they say things that destroy the other inside, and then Chuck had disappeared and Blair had thrown herself into travelling. She can’t say she hasn’t ever thought about him since she met with Harry, she has, but not enough to do anything about it, and that’s fine, that’s manageable, that’s fair.

Six years is a long time. Blair likes to think she’s changed in that time, not completely, she still respects her younger self, but she’s grown up. No one’s seen Chuck for long enough to see if that’s true for him as well and when’s a better time than Lily van der Woodsen’s birthday party to make that judgement.

“Blair,” is all Chuck says, inclining his head in a nod that Blair doesn’t return. Fuck courtesy.

Harry, in one of those startling moments when he completely surprises her, then takes that dismissal of courtesy she's thrown into the air and pushes it a step further, moving forward and punching Chuck squarely in the face before Chuck can rasp out a scathing comment, and then he does it again when Chuck’s eyes flash furiously, hand clutching at his bloody nose.

“Harry!” Blair yelps, grabbing his hand before he can do it again. Her fingers slide across the blood covering his and all she can think is that everyone is staring at them, everyone is thinking _there goes Blair Waldorf causing drama again, won’t she ever grow up?_ which isn’t fair because she was being fucking civil and her _husband_ is the one who decided to flip out. “What the fuck?” she mutters into his ear, dragging him across the room to the balcony, the crowd parting before them, those narrowed eyes and quirks of their mouths oh so familiar.

He mumbles something in return and when he shakes out his hand Blair doesn’t miss the way the people closest to them flinch slightly and she knows Harry didn’t either.

It’s not until she pushes Harry outside and steps out after him, turning to slide the door closed behind them, that she thinks to look back at Chuck, a half-shrug of apology all she allows when she sees the blood blooming over his white shirt, his hand still pressed against his nose as he roars with anger. Okay, so it’s dramatic and it’s petty and it’s wrong but it’s what he deserves and she’s stupidly holding onto that even all these years later.

That doesn’t mean she approves of what Harry did either because Christ, what an idiot.

She tells him as much, guiding him into one of the chairs and then slapping him across the head, rolling her eyes when he groans because it wasn’t even that hard and anyway, he deserves it too. “What the fuck was that, Harry?”

“He’s a wanker,” Harry says, shaking out his hand again before he gingerly uncurls his knuckles, examining the damage. “What, Blair? Did you think I’d shake his hand and smile when I met him?”

“Yes, actually,” Blair hisses, “because that’s the normal thing to do.”

“Ah, Blair, c’mon,” and then he tilts his head up at her and grins, “we’ve never been normal, have we?”

He says it like it’s a good thing, the way Blair always does, something to be proud of, but for once in her life she wants to show up to a place with these people and leave without people whispering behind her back. She can just imagine what they’re saying now -- Blair could never pick a man, look at this one, violent and unstable, just what she needs.

“I can’t believe you,” she says, turning away from him, focusing on the stretch of lights across the city. “I don’t need you fighting people for me, Harry. I’ve said this from the beginning.”

Again he surprises her when he stands up abruptly, the chair skittering away from him, and when Blair turns around she recognises the anger that’s rolling off of him. She knows how to deal with this; she waits.

“Blair,” he starts with, voice low, “I know what you said and I heard you but you haven’t been woken up in the middle of the night with your shaking and your nightmares and your _fear_ pushing me away. You’ve told me time and time again of the things he’s done to you, the things he’s said, and I know from the things you haven’t been able to tell me how much worse he’s been. Blair, we’ve been together for five years and you haven’t fully shaken the idea that he could crawl out of the ground and take all of this away from you. I know you think you’re fine and that you’ve moved on and that’s fine, that’s great, but only last month I had you sobbing at three in the morning because of something that bastard did six, seven, years ago so punching him was the least I could do. Sorry if I ruined your evening, Blair, but I’m not apologizing past that.”

Blair falls back against the railings, the metal cold on her back. She’s never told Harry the subject of her nightmares, always keeping them vague, generic, mostly out of denial for herself, but he’s not stupid, and neither is she.

Over Harry’s shoulder she catches Lily staring out at them, a hand on Chuck’s shoulder. Fuck. She wants to punch him herself. She wants to take Harry’s wand and even if only sparks come out the end that’ll be enough to scare him, to fuck him up, to let him know that she’s not forgotten him and that she’ll not be seeing him again. _Fuck_ courtesy.

“I wish you hadn’t punched him, Harry,” she sighs.

“Stunning work better?”

“Less messy,” she says, mouth quirking up into a reluctant smile when she looks back into the party and sees that Chuck has vanished, a spot of blood on the floor the only sign he was ever there. “Will you wipe their memories?”

And now Harry is gentle, sorrow all over his face when he approaches her. “Do you want me to, Blair? I can do that.”

Maybe he’s asking her if she wants this gone from her mind too and it takes longer than she would have thought to decide no, she wants to remember this, how she felt, what happened, how she’ll move on from this and leave Chuck Bass behind her once and for all.

But no one else needs to remember this and so she nods and tells him, “Yes. Please. Do that.”

“Want me to fix his nose too?”

And, well, that’s something else entirely. “No, let him wake up with a broken nose and let him wonder how it happened.”

“Fuck him?”

“Fuck him. Exactly,” and then, because she’s allowed to, she smiles some more and closes the remaining distance between them. “Harry, what you did was stupid and irresponsible and I can’t believe you did it but thank you, I appreciate it.”

Harry closes his eyes, exhales that tension Blair knows has been building up in his head ever since they set foot in the room. “I won’t punch anyone on your behalf again, Blair. I promise.”

She rests her palm on his cheek and leans into him. “I know how hard it was for you in there. With everyone looking at you like you’re something bad, destructive.” She thanks him again, this time kissing him gently. He sways into her and her other hand catches at his waist. “Will I clean your hand here or at home?”

“I can do it,” he murmurs. “Let me get my wand.”

“No, we’re going home,” Blair decides, suddenly exhausted and eager to be as far as possible from this place and everyone here. She loves Serena and she tolerates Lily but she needs her bed, she needs quiet. “I want to go home.”

Harry shifts back into the confident, powerful young man who walked into the party with Blair Waldorf’s hand wrapped around his. “Wait here for five minutes while I go Obliviate them and then I’ll take us home, okay?”

So Blair drops into a chair, skirt draping across her knees, and watches Harry pull his wand out of his waistband and step back into the room, head held up even as his hand continues to bleed onto Lily’s white floor. Blair watches Serena step forward, the ally between the two worlds, and for a moment Blair rises from her seat, ready to mediate if Serena confronts Harry but the expression on her face is concern not anger so Blair stays where she is. Her heart clenches momentarily when she sees the blank look that sweeps over Serena’s face, a grin appearing almost instantly as her mind rewinds back over the last half hour, painting it clean.

She watches as Harry makes his way through the crowd, none of them shying away from him now, and she wonders what he’s saying to them when they point to his hand and ask what happened. He’ll say he fell and he’ll do that self-deprecating shrug he’s so good at and everyone will say it’s so easy to do. And then he’ll reach Chuck and Blair doesn’t know how that’ll go but she can’t bring herself to care.

She can’t wait to go home. She’s going to crawl into bed and curl under the covers and Harry will fall inside beside her and it’s going to be _fine_. Chuck will disappear out of their lives again and Blair will put him behind her for real this time, no more nightmares, no more tears in the middle of the night, and she’s going to live her life, happy and successful with Harry by her side.

Serena meets her eye and raises her hands to the side questionly; Blair mimes fanning herself in return, managing a smile at Serena as she turns to speak to Eric, all blissfully unaware of what just happened.   
  
Blair sits back in the chair, head resting against the arched back, and then she hears a shout and an ominous thump from the direction Harry left in as he breaks his promise in one swift punch before undoing it all from Chuck’s brain, leaving him bloody and confused with no one around.   
  
Out on the balcony Blair sighs, closes her eyes, and wishes desperately that she could Apparate.


End file.
